Cell Mate
by Just One More Season
Summary: After a night out with friends, the last place Alfred Jones expected to find himself is in a holding cell in his county jail. Much less in the same cell as a particularly peeved British man. Rating T for language- might change as the story progresses.
1. Chapter 1

**Note: I do not own Hetalia or any of the characters, nor the photo used for cover art. All rights to their proper owners please!**

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How did he end up here you ask? Hell if he knew, one minute he was goofing off with his friends in the bar, the next he was waking up in a prison cell. Now, this might have been slightly easier for the man to piece together if it weren't for the fact that he wasn't the _only_ one in his designated cell.

And he didn't recognize the other man he was with at all.

"Well," Alfred whispered, "this is a nice change of pace." Rubbing at his eyes to brush away any remnants of sleep, he heard a clearly accented voice from the other side of the cell.

"I don't understand how you could consider this a nice change of pace." Alfred turned to face the man who had spoken.

"Sarcasm, dude." He smiled in an attempt to smooth over whatever had ruffled the man's feathers, using the opportunity to give his companion a once over.

The man had bottle-green eyes and hair as blond as Alfred's. He was definitely shorter than Alfred, however he clearly didn't seem too worried about this fact, his fuming nature giving off a permanently peeved nature. He wore a blue jacket and black pants, a white dress shirt with a black tie making him seem far too professional to be locked up in a jail cell at-shit what time was it again?

"This hardly seems the time to be joking, we're locked in a prison cell, the guard's are oblivious to everything that happens, and no matter how many times I ask they won't let me call my transportation to see why the hell I'm still here." The man huffed and leaned back against the wall behind him.

"Wow, that sounds like you have awful luck, dude."

"Stop calling me that!" the man snapped at Alfred.

"What, dude?" Alfred asked, slightly confused as to why the man in front of him was so opposed to such a casual name.

"What else you bloody buffoon?" Fighting the urge to resort to childish name-calling, Alfred walked over and sat on the bench next to him.

"Well if you told me your name I wouldn't have to call you that."

"Will you be quiet if I do?" the man demanded.

"No promises man, just trying to create a conversation that isn't insulting." Alfred watched the man mull over his options, obviously torn between ignoring him and praying for the least annoying conversation that would follow or telling him what Alfred wanted to know and hoping he would shut up. Luckily for Alfred, the man took the slightly more practical route and told Alfred his name.

"Arthur Kirkland. And you are?"

"Alfred Jones, any idea what time it is Captain Kirk?"

"It's just past 3 am, and never call me that again."

"Is Artie okay then?"

"If you have a death wish."

"What about Iggy?"

"Where the bloody hell do you get Iggy from Arthur?" Arthur gave him an incredulous look.

"Nowhere in particular, you just kinda remind me of an igloo. All cold and foreboding, but I bet that you're actually secretly very warm on the inside."

"What the bloody hell are you rambling on about now you uneducated twat?" Alfred laughed at the Arthur's slight blush and leaned back against the cool, brick wall, closing his eyes for just a moment.

"Hey Arthur, why are you in here?" he could almost hear the smaller man resisting the urge to respond sarcastically.

"Because of my stupid ex." Peering with just one eye, Alfred looked at him.

"Something they did or something you did?"

"None of your concern. What about you? They wouldn't just throw you in here for no good reason, would they?" Arthur's snippy reply reminded Alfred that he had only just met the man and that some things would be too personal to discuss within half an hour of meeting someone.

Not that he would know, he was almost obnoxiously open to people, keeping few things solely to himself. He had often been warned by his family that not all people are willing to share their life stories right away and many are discouraged by people that did.

"Honestly, I can't remember. It's all a bit of a blur after me and my friends started hanging out." Arthur snorted.

"That explains it, a group of college boys hanging out at a bar, which I'm assuming is where you went, what else would happen except being held for bail? I'm honestly surprised I can't find other buffoons in the cell, I thought you travelled in packs?" As much as Alfred wanted to stick up for his friends and fight against the stereotype that Arthur was shoving onto him and his group, Alfred didn't get a chance to because right at that moment the door opened and a familiar face walked in with a guard.

"Hey Matt, come to pick me up?" He said turning towards the man, Alfred's brother sighed.

Alfred's brother had the same blond hair and a similar cowlick (albeit a much curlier one), but that was where the similarities ended. Where Alfred tended to stick to a wardrobe of nerdy t-shirts and jeans his brother wore plaid almost every day, often fiddling with a small polar bear keychain he had had on his keychain since he was in high school. Mathew was a much more reserved individual with violet eyes and pale skin, often hunched over slightly, causing others to forget how tall he actually was.

"What did you do this time Alfred?" Laughing, he stood up to cross the cell floor.

"Honestly, I can't remember. I was hanging out with Gilbert and Mathias in the bar and then I woke up here." Mathew sighed again.

"That sounds about right, last I heard you guys were going to try and find fireworks."

"And you let us?" Alfred asked his brother slightly offended by both his lack of judgment and his brother's carelessness.

"I figured you'd be arrested before you could do anything. And look, I was right, now let's go." Alfred turned to give one last wave at Arthur but found that the man had closed his eyes and had begun ignoring the environment around him. Sighing softly, Alfred followed his brother out of the room.


	2. Chapter 2

Arthur had been doing just fine without that asshole thank you very much. He had moved out and gotten his life in order. He had friends, a stable job, and he had even recently allowed his friends to convince him to put himself on a dating site, not that he thought it'd find him someone to spend the rest of his life with. But then he made the drastic mistake of checking his mail today.

And there it was, a bloody _wedding_ invitation with his name on it.

Now, it might have been logical to just throw it away, show himself and that arrogant frog just how far he had moved on. Yes, looking back on his actions now that seems like it was the only logical thing he could have done.

Except he didn't throw the invitation away, instead he opened it. Arthur sat on his snow-white couch and opened the cream invitation. He slowly peeled away the envelope and withdrew from it the flimsy piece of paper that showed just how far along his ex had moved in his life.

 _Francis Bonnefoy and Jeanne Lucette humbly invite you to their wedding._

There it was, in cold blue cursive. Two years had passed and what had he done compared to this? His first love was getting married and wanted him to go. And while some may have went and smiled to show how far above it they were, or ignored the invitation, regretting the day that they ever set eyes on their ex, Arthur sat there and felt the same amount of pain as he did the first time he heard Francis say that he didn't love him in the same way as he used to.

So it was sitting there that something within Arthur broke (perhaps it was his sense of judgment). He picked up the paper before putting it in his jacket pocket and grabbed his car keys on the way out the door. He drove and drove and drove until he didn't know just where he was anymore and then he pulled into the first bar that he saw. He ignored the three idiots at the pool table talking about fireworks and brushed past the arrogant piano player, instead he made a b-line for bar and ordered one shot of whisky after another.

Arthur lost track of how many shots he had before the young man sat down next to him. He was too drunk to care why the man was there or what he looked like, only taking notice of him when he switched out Arthur's whiskey for a water.

"It's not good to drink that much alcohol in one sitting if you cannot handle it." The man said kindly.

"Well it's not good" _Hiccup_ "to interfere" _Hiccup_ "in other people's business." _Hiccup._ Arthur wished for the life of him that he would stop hiccupping, it made his finger waving a lot less threatening and much more like a drunk cliché. The large man laughed.

"Drink the water friend, you will feel much better."

"You don't look like any friend of mine." Arthur hiccupped again, feeling slightly dizzy as he stood.

"Of course, please sit and finish your drink." Arthur didn't know why he decided to do what he did after that, but at the moment it seemed like a good idea.

He reeled his arm back and punched the large man square in the jaw.

Only to be restrained and thrown out on his ass by security.

Now, any sane person would have gone home and eaten a tub of ice cream to drown their drunken heartache in food. But once again, Arthur made a choice which had no particular set of reasoning other than it seemed like a good idea at the time.

Arthur went to his friend's house, planning on going swimming in their pool, or perhaps crashing on their couch until his dizziness was gone. Not wanting to disturb the man this late at night though he decided against ringing the doorbell and decided that simply going through the back gate would be best for everyone involved. However, it was while he was desperately trying to crawl over the fence (because he forgot the password to unlock the gate) that the neighbors called the cops and he was driven away in a police car, sirens wailing at the highest volume, his friend answering the door dressed in a blue robe and mild agitation.

Which did nothing but increase his steadily rising foul mood.

Then he was given one phone call. Just one to use to arrange a ride home from this terrible nightmare that Arthur had placed himself in.

So he did what any drunk, heartbroken fool would do. He called his ex and cried into the voice mail that he was stranded at a police station with no ride home and no idea why he was calling a frog of all people and only when he was finally placed back in his holding cell did he immediately want to call back and apologize for everything he had said, but the guards simply ignored his irritated shouting.

After that life became less annoying, he had a cell to himself, he was less dizzy and his headache (which had formed when he fell over the fence shortly before the police showed up) was finally subsiding.

And then the idiot showed up. Some moron in a captain America t-shirt and blue jeans stumbled into the cell and walked straight (or in this case he walked crookedly as he obviously had had one too many drinks) to the bench. Without saying a word, the large man leaned on the cell wall and fell asleep. Sighing Arthur surreptitiously studied his new sleeping companion.

He was tall, much taller than Arthur, with a cowlick in his nearly perfect blond hair. He was tan, but not obnoxiously so (like many of the people in his school had). He had thin-rimmed glasses which Arthur had noticed outlined sapphire blue eyes when he was walking in.

He didn't think anyone could look this good sleeping, it simply wasn't fair that people like that existed (and more importantly that one was sleeping right next to him) after all he had been.

Annoyed, he leaned his head back and closed his eyes. Trying his best to ignore the world around him. Arthur was so absorbed in ignoring the cell and cellmate that he didn't notice the man was awake until he was one the other side of the cell muttering about a change of pace.

"I don't know how you could consider this a 'nice change of pace'." Arthur seethed. His headache worsening the more he talked.

"Sarcasm dude." The man gave a little half smile and Arthur looked away from him again, remembering all the things he had tried to drown in whisky just hours before hand.

"This hardly seems like the place for sarcasm seeing as we're locked in a prison cell, the guards are oblivious to everything and no matter how many fucking times I ask they won't let me call my transportation to ask them why the hell I'm still here." He was aware that none of what had happened was this man's fault, but dammit it felt good to vent at someone, anyone. After a moment the man responded with another smile.

"Wow, sounds like you have awful luck dude."

"Stop calling me that!" Arthur snapped at his newfound companion, watching the momentary shock before a confused look enveloped the other's face.

"You mean dude?"

"What else could I mean you bloody buffoon?" He watched conflicting emotions dance across the other's face before he walked across the small room and walked down on the cold metal bench.

"If you would tell me your name and I wouldn't have to call you that." He smiled innocently.

"Will you shut up if I do?" It felt like he was kicking a puppy by lashing out at this idiot, with his huge eyes and stupid cowlick he seemed almost too young to be drinking. Then again, maybe that was why he was in here.

"No promises man, just trying to make conversation that isn't insulting." Arthur took a deep breath, his headache pounding. But, after his rudeness to this poor man, the least he could do is give him his name.

"Arthur Kirkland, and you are?" If he was going to offer his name it only made sense that the other would as well.

"Arthur Jones, any idea what time it is Captain Kirk?" And there it was.

"Just after 3 am and never call me that again."

"Is Artie okay then?"

"If you have a death wish."

"What about Iggy?"

"How the bloody hell do you get Iggy from Arthur?" Arthur looked at the man-Alfred-confused and slightly irritated.

"I don't really, you just remind me of an igloo. Cold and imposing on the outside but I bet you're really warm on the inside." Arthur looked away from the moron; resenting the blush he could feel setting on.

He was tempted to ignore Alfred when he asked why he was in the cell, too many memories to divulge to someone he just met. Fighting against every bone that of his body that wanted to answer his questions as sarcastically as possible, he answered anyways. Arthur almost regretted how rude his out lash was afterwards. There was no proof that the person next to him was as stereotypical as those he had known personally in his life. He did his best not to listen to Alfred and his brother as the door to the cell opened and he could have sworn he heard someone sigh as the door to closed again. Probably the man that Alfred had called Matt, he seemed to be use to this type of situation.

But it wasn't twenty minutes afterwards that he forgot all that again as the door opened again with a face from the past.

"Hey Arthur, got your voicemail." He looked at him. The ex that broke his heart which, was the same one that that helped him through some of the hardest times in his life. The ex that forced him to make friends, the very ones that Arthur depended on when Francis left him. Arthur looked at his first love whom was getting married in three months and wanted his RSVP and did Arthur best to see a stranger. He really did. But all he could see was the person that he had always been there, only to leave him with his heart broken.

But he didn't say any of that; all he could do was choke out the one word that wouldn't give anything that he was thinking away.

"Frog."


	3. Chapter 3

"I still can't believe you were going to let us buy fireworks at 2 in the morning." Alfred looked across the small round table at his brother.

"Like I said, I assumed you would be arrested before you could actually do anything with them. _If_ you managed to actually buy some at this time of the year." Mathew shrugged and stirred his coffee, disinterested with whatever line of thinking had landed his brother in the holding cell. "New topic, did you find a date to Francis's wedding yet?" Alfred groaned at the reminder.

"No. I've been busy with school and there's no one I particularly want to ask so-"

"So you're going stag." Mathew finished.

"Shut up pancakes." Alfred muttered.

"You said you would let that go!" Mathew seethed across the table.

"Yeah well you said you'd stay out of my love life and so here we are."

"Seriously though, get a date. You do not want to go stag to one of their gatherings." Mathew warned. "Gilbert will challenge you to a contest which either involve something stupid, something dangerous, or something illegal."

"Sounds like you know first hand. Which reminds me, where _are_ Gilbert and Mathias?" Alfred asked, sipping at his own drink, smudging the sharpie lines that made up his name.

"Mathias got picked up by Lukas as soon as he heard that you idiots were trying to light fireworks. Apparently last time Mathias did something like that he started a fire in the house and Lukas didn't want to risk it."

"Wouldn't surprise me. What about Gilbert?" Alfred watched his brother try to dodge around the question as he drained his coffee and stood up to go back to the barista. Alfred knew about the almost relationship that was forming between his brother and his friend, and he did his best not to pressure them into telling him. However, watching them squirm while feigning oblivion was a rare and beautiful opportunity to be presented with in life and there was no use wasting a chance to mess with them both at once.

"I'm back, they sure know how to stay on top of things here, don't they?" Alfred smiled coyly, noticing a hint of disappoint in his brother's face.

"Yeah, you didn't answer the question before you left. I'm sure that if any of us would end up in jail it probably would have been him, right?" Mathew turned slightly red.

"I...uh, well I took him home." He said into his cup of coffee. Alfred smiled slightly as he relaxed in his chair. He didn't know when it had become a routine for them to go out for coffee when they met up, but every time they met they tended to wander towards the closest Starbucks, Dunken Donuts, or family run café in the area

"Without buying him dinner first? What kind of a person do you take him for Mattie?" Alfred watched his brother turn nearly as red as his hoodie.

"Not like that! I just took him to the house and gave him an aspirin." Alfred laughed and nodded.

"Aspirin was a smart idea knowing his drinking habits. It seems like when we get together everyone gets drunk even faster than usual."

"That's because you're all self important idiots who keep challenging each other to drink more than person A or get more numbers than person B. You're like Gilbert, Antonio, and Francis only without as much backstory and to the friendship." Mathew stated as simply as he would the time.

"Wow, thank you for dissecting the relationship I share with my friends and all but I gotta run. I have to go to go to classes tomorrow and I'm supposed to start helping Gilbert plan Francis's bachelor party."

"You guys know the wedding isn't for a couple of months, right?"

"Yeah, but its, and I quote, 'the last night for Francis to be as awesome as he possibly can'." Alfred stood and stretched. "You know better than anyone how Gilbert can get."

"What's that supposed to mean?" His brother turned red again as Alfred threw away his cup and waved from the door. Bracing himself against the bitter fall wind, he realized that he forgot his jacket at Gilbert's apartment. This left him with two options, break into the apartment and retrieve his jacket or wait who knew how long until one of his roommates was home to open the door, because there was no way he was going to leave his jacket behind.

Trudging through an almost silent town, Alfred took a moment to appreciate how still the world was on nights like this. It almost seemed like time had stopped.

At least, until a car rushed by and the spell was over. Taking a deep breath he continued his trek through the town. He hadn't known the trio of friends very long, having met Gilbert through a college course last year and through him meeting Antonio and Francis. The trio was a bunch of dorks, but they were good to hang out with and his brother liked them well enough.

Alfred looked up at the apartment complex and sighed. The small piece of him that had retained hope of not (technically) committing a crime died when he saw the lights off in the apartment and their cars gone from the parking lot. He just hoped that they left the door unlocked.

Alfred let out a breath that he wasn't aware he was holding in when the door opened without resistance. Walking inside he looked around for where he might have left it, vaguely recalling seeing it in the living room before they took off for the night. It was while he was rummaging around in the living room that he heard the door open again. Assuming it was just Antonio, home from a night out, Alfred continued attempting to move the entertainment center in case his jacket had fallen down behind it.

Which is what led him to overhear the conversation in the kitchen. It wasn't like Alfred had been purposefully eavesdropping, but it would've been rather awkward to walk out into the middle of their obviously private conversation. It wasn't until the sound of a coffee machine starting up that he realized that who ever it was had company over.

"When are you going to let me hail a cab? I have work tomorrow I'll have you know." The voice was slightly familiar, but the accent threw him off. Alfred didn't know many people with accents quite like this man's.

"Just as soon as you ask the questions that I know you have." Francis then, his accent was unmistakable.

"I have nothing to ask you."

"Not even about my fiancée?"

"I don't want to know anything about her, I'm sure she's just as much of a frog as you are."

"Non, she's..." For the first time since knowing Francis, Alfred heard him at a loss for words. There was a period of silence that, even for an onlooker, was suffocating.

"Why did you invite me? To the wedding, that is." The accented man's voice sounded by small, almost as though it was made of glass, Francis's tone was equally as fragile while responding.

"To let you know that I'm sorry." The comment changed the direction of the conversation dramatically. The once childlike voice was now enraged.

"Sorry? You wanted to tell me that you were sorry? You have a strange way of showing it!" there was a moment pause before the man continued in a much quieter but equally as enraged voice. "But you know what, so am I. I'm sorry that I met you, I'm sorry that I loved you, and I'm sorry that you left me. I'm going to always regret that day for the rest of my life but you know what, I'm perfectly fine. I have friends and a stable job. I have my life set up just the way I want it and I can promise you that if I ever end up in jail ever again I won't be calling you to bail me out."

"Arthur plea-"

"No, we're done here. I would like to go home now and if you don't take me, I'll walk home." Alfred picked up his jacket and quietly slid the entertainment center back into place.

"Arthur, that's insane, it's two miles from here to your house. You could never walk that distance."

"Watch me." It was more of a hiss than a whisper, the threat followed by a moment of tense silence, a soft sigh breaking the quiet.

"I'll go hail a cab, assuming you don't want to ride two miles in the same car as me that is?" Alfred could hear Francis putting on his shoes.

"Oh look at that, it does have a brain." There was another soft sigh and then the sound of the door closing.

And that's when it clicked. The name and the accent and the mention of prison all fit into place like puzzle pieces and as he peeked around the corner into the kitchen Alfred's suspicions were confirmed.

"...Jones?" The just previously enraged sounding man looked sick now, all color drained from his face, turning even paler as he looked at Alfred. The sudden change in personality made his stomach turn over just slightly.

"... Iggy."


	4. Chapter 4

"Well, this is awkward." Alfred was standing in the doorway to what Arthur remembered was the living room, that is, if they haven't changed the layout of the flat. He looked slightly scared, as if he had never heard an argument before.

"I'm just going to go." Arthur stood up to leave.

"Wait a second, Francis is hailing a cab for you. It'd be rude to leave now." Alfred walked a little bit further into the kitchen, twisting the ends of his jacket sleeves. He could feel Arthur's eyes boring into him, obviously trying to figure out the meaning behind his actions.

"Well it can't be any worse than the things that I said to him earlier." Alfred's face dimmed with confusion, his blue eyes seeming to look straight through Arthur's words to find what was hidden behind them.

"That didn't sound rude to me. That sounded more like you were hurt." He paused. "You just had a different way of expressing it." Arthur's breath caught in his throat. He turned around and began frantically pulling on his jacket, which he had previously thrown on the coat tree.

"I am not hurt. I'm completely and utterly over that frog." And it was then, looking at the small English man trying to put on a jacket faster than humanly possible, that Alfred had an idea. A mostly terrible, probably upsetting, fueled by sleeplessness and a remnant of alcohol, idea. One that would possibly fix his problem while helping Arthur move on from what was an obviously still broken heart. If he agreed to the plan that Alfred had just thrown together, that was.

"Then go with me to the wedding." Arthur stopped, one arm through his jacket, trying to process the hair-brained comment. He tried to make his legs work so he could turn around and face the walking anomaly that was Alfred Jones, but for some reason they had turned to gel without him noticing.

"What?" Alfred began to repeat the question, phased very little by Arthur's reaction.

"Go with me to Francis's wedding." Alfred smirked. "I bet you'll back out before we can even buy the tuxes." Not one to back down from a challenge, Arthur snapped out of whatever had held him in place as he began thinking it over. On one hand, what better a way to show that he had moved on than to not only go to the wedding, but to go with a date? On the other, that implied that he had to actually go to the wedding, preferably without another whiskey fueled confession. And this was ignoring the fact that he was being invited to go as the date of someone who he met literally less than twelve hours ago.

"You're on." Arthur decided. "But what happens if I complete your silly dare?"

"Hm, than I suppose that you'll never have to talk to me ever again."

"I would have done that anyways."

"Yes, but if you win I won't seek you out on facebook, in public, or any local holding cells." Arthur turned and glared at him. "In fact I'll ignore you if you pass by me on the street."

"Sounds perfect." Alfred smiled coyly at Arthur's response.

"Yes, but if you loose the bet, than you have to be submerged in a bathtub full of rainbow glitter. In your underwear." Alfred watched the momentary panic spread over the man's face before he could conceal it.

"That sounds like a terrible situation." Arthur smirked. "You're on."

"Kay then cell mate, want me to drive you home?"

"What?" Arthur was taken back by both the flirtatious nature of his question and the new nickname.

"Well, if we're going to pass as a wonderful pair that'll show Francis just how much you've moved on, than we'd better get to know each other first, right?" Alfred didn't tell Arthur that he wanted to listen to his accent for a while longer. "I thought we could get to know each other during the drive."

"I suppose it's better than the a cab that's obviously impaired seeing as it's been far too long since he left to hail it, but what's with the name?" Arthur didn't say that he wouldn't mind driving home with Alfred or that he was slightly intrigued by the ignorant man who didn't seem to mind his rude nature.

"You mean 'cell mate'? I think it has a nice ring to it, like a play on soul mate. Why, don't you like it?" Arthur blushed at the explanation of the name, looking away from the innocent confusion that Alfred had donned. _Soul mate,_ no _,_ no way in hell would he dwell on that. This was just to shove it in the Frog's face that he was completely and utterly moved on. Although, he did have to admit that it had a nice ring to it. In the midst of preparing to leave, Alfred casually broke the silence. "I could always call you Iggy again."

"Only if you don't mind me dying your skin bright green." Alfred smiled opening his mouth to respond before the doorknob twitched.

"Alright Arth- _Alfred_? What're you doing here?" Francis had opened the door as he spoke and dropped off mid-sentence to look at the unexpected guest in his kitchen. For a brief moment his eyes darted between him and Arthur and then Alfred gave an easy.

"Just got here a minute ago, learn to lock your door dude." It was visible how much Francis relaxed with this news. Alfred decided what he didn't know wouldn't hurt his pride. Arthur noticed how easily the lie slipped off his tongue.

"Okay, but why'd you break into my house at 4 in the morning?" Francis crossed his arms and Alfred just smiled and held up his arm, now wearing the jacket in crime.

"Left my jacket here before we went out for drinks. Thought I'd stop by and pick it up, never imagined I'd run into Arthur though." Arthur stiffened slightly as the conversation turned towards him. Alfred either didn't notice or chose to ignore his companion's unease.

"Uh, yeah I suppose it is a little uncanny. Francis was just helping me out of a... _situation_ I found myself in."

"Wow, try to be a little vaguer would you?" Alfred laughed and slipped his hand into Arthur's, ignoring the microscopic jump that the other gave as he did so. "Well, hate to cut this short Francis, but I should really get him home, ya know?" Francis nodded softly.

"Right, goodnight Alfred, Arthur I hope that you'll reconsider your opinion on the wedding." If Arthur didn't know any better, he would say that Francis sounded sad.

"Of course he'll be there, we wouldn't miss it for the world. Now please excuse us, Arthur's not feeling very well." Still holding Arthur's hand, he brushed past Francis and walked out of the apartment.

As soon as they were out of view of the apartment's windows, Alfred let go of Arthur's hand. The fall air felt cooler than it had before and Alfred counted his blessings that he had gone back to get his jacket.

"Sorry about that. It was the quickest way out of there without raising more questions." Arthur seemed to snap out of a daze as he looked up at Alfred.

"Never do that again you buffoon. If you do so help me I will shave your head and force you into a swimming pool full of boiling tea." Alfred raised his hands up in a sign of surrender.

"Okay, sorry. I promise I will never to hold your hand ever again." Arthur did his best to figure out why that statement stung a little. "Besides, that's not why you're really upset, it seems more like you're upset because now Francis thinks we're together. I mean, all I really did was give you a prolonged handshake, which you seemed like the type to give out handshakes all the time." Arthur ignored the way that the cold air filled the area where Alfred's hand had once been and glared at the taller man.

"Shut up and take me home already." His response made Alfred laugh, the noise echoing through the hollow air.

"Wow, I didn't think you were that kind of guy Arthur." Alfred had already observed how short Arthur's fuse was, and took the opportunity to tease him.

"You know what I meant you idiot!" face flushed from both anger and embarrassment, Arthur crossed his arms and ignored Alfred's existence for a few moments before a happy sigh drifted into the air.

"Okay, come on, the car's this way Iggy."

"Don't call me that!"


	5. Chapter 5

I'm so sorry for how long it took me to get this out (writer's block is my enemy in life). Anyways, here's the update and i'm sorry if it's weird or not as good as the past chapters.

I do not own hetalia or the characters.

Shit. What did i do last night? Alfred woke up with these thoughts echoing in his head, not for the first time. Alfred closed his eyes against the vague memory of what had occurred the previous night and the hangover that came with it. Alfred began bumping around next to him to find his glasses, sliding them onto his face as he sat up. In the process of dragging himself out of bed and throwing on clean clothes, Alfred tensed.

He remembered exactly what had happened last night.

Alfred frantically began tearing apart his room to find his phone. 10 minutes later, with clothes and baskets strewn about the area, he found it in the sliver of space between his bed and nightstand. Most likely having fell through the crack after knocking his hand about to find his glasses.

Scrolling through his contacts Alfred groaned in embarrassment, covering his face with his hand.

There among his contacts was a new profile that he could remember punching in as he dropped off Arthur. Alfred began to shoot out a quick message as he clicked on the icon. Ironically enough, the american flag due to a mistake he had made in his slightly drunken haze.

His thumbs hovered over the screen as he tried to figure out what to type. Because really, what could he say to someone he had asked to go to a wedding with him the same night they met in jail? Alfred settled for a simple good morning text. Besides, who knew if Arthur was even awake by now?

 **Morning Artie**

 _What do you want, i'm at work. not to mention it's nearly noon, so your greeting hardly applies right now._

Of course Arthur was at work, as was any other normally functioning person would be this late in the day. Really, what was alfred thinking today?

 **Wanna grab lunch later?**

There was a period of time that Alfred knew Arthur was debating whether or not to go. Alfred bit his lip was he waited for the response.

 _How much later?_

That was already a better response than Alfred had hoped for. Excited he shot off a text, already planning on texting his brother to let him know he had plans today, and that he would have to skip their usual meet for coffee.

 **Whenever. I don't have much to do today.**

 _I'm flattered. My break is at 2, think you'll be awake then?"_

Alfred rolled his eyes, as he sent out a reply. Arthur's sense of humor bringing a smile to his face.

 **Do you want me to pick you up?**

The british man took an agonizingly long minute to reply. Alfred began his morning routine as he received the reply.

 _That sounds lovely. I'll send you the address._

 **K, see ya then :)**

Alfred pulled up to the office building at 1:57, deciding that it was better to be early than risk having kept a perpetually angry british man waiting. As he got out of the car to stretch, Alfred felt slightly self conscious in front of the official building.

He had worn a simple black shirt with a bomber jacket over top, blue jeans and his favorite boots. While he had tried to smooth down his cowlick it had retaliated, seeming to stand up taller the more Alfred tried to smooth it down. Sighing, he leaned against the door of his car, checking his phone for any new messages. Right as he was about to text Arthur to let him know that he was in the parking lot Alfred heard the doors to the building swish open.

"Really Kiku you must work on your partner's sleeping habits." Arthur was talking to a small asian man dressed in a simple black suit. While in any other situation, Alfred would have walked right up to them to announce his presence, he paused to look over Arthur, he had seemed strangely quiet after they had reached the car last night. He was wearing a suit made of deep green material, which would have looked strange on nearly anyone else, however on Arthur it seemed natural. Underneath the suit was a white shirt with a black tie and simple dress shoes. Arthur smiled at his friend, Kiku, the simple expression changing the impression he gave of himself. Smiling, Alfred put away his cellphone and waited for Arthur to finish his conversation. After a few moments of standing there chatting, Arthur glanced over at the parking lot and his face changed, he wasn't smiling anymore, but he didn't look particularly angry either. If he had to put a name to it, Alfred would have said that he looked shocked.

"Kiku, i'll see you after my break." Arthur's words seemed strange and Alfred watched Kiku pull Arthur back to whisper something to him. Arthur shook his head and gave a halfhearted smile before walking over to Alfred.

"Hey Artie, you ready to go?" Alfred smiled.

"Go where?" Arthur blinked a few times, as if he himself were still absorbing what was going on.

"Out to lunch. I messaged you like 2 hours ago to ask when you wanted me to pick you up." Arthur nodded, as if coming out of a daze.

"Right, sorry, my coffee's wearing off. Shall we go then?" Alfred nodded and held the passenger side door, which he had been leaning on for the entirety of the conversation, open for him. Arthur didn't say anything and ducked his head as he got into the car.

"Are you sure you're okay Arthur, we can reschedule if you're not feeling well." Alfred climbed into the car on his side and looked over as he buckled up. Arthur shook his head.

"No, really, i'm fine. I just didn't get much sleep before work and our plans completely slipped my mind." Alfred nodded, Arthur did look pretty ragged up close. His hair still puffed up in strange places, as if he hadn't thought to brush it before work and his tie looked slightly looser than it should have been.

"Alright, do you have somewhere specific in mind? I came with a backup just in case you didn't so no pressure. " His companion still seemed in a daze but after a few moments he looked at Alfred.

"Whatever works." Alfred's eyebrows furrowed as he drove, Arthur hadn't been this agreeable last night.

"Alright then." The words hovered between them as Arthur returned to the window. An idea came to Alfred. Grinning, he turned on the radio and began singing along loudly to the first song that came on.

"I KNEW YOU TROUBLE WHEN YOU WALKED IN." Alfred saw Arthur turn to look at him. "SO SHAME ON ME NOW."

"What are you doing?" Alfred turned to look briefly at Arthur and was greeted with a smile. Not quite the same as the one he had witnessed in the parking lot, more confused than happy, but at least it was a step in the right direction.

"Karaoke, what does it look like i'm doing?"

"Well, it looks like you're driving, but it sounds like you're a cat being bathed." Despite his harsh criticism, Arthur looked happier than he was a few moments ago.

"I'll have you know, my singing is fantastic."

"I suppose it is for you." Alfred looked straight ahead, turning off the radio as he did so, deeply wounded that Arthur would target his singing as an outlet for his lack of sleep. After a few moments there was a soft sigh and then he heard the radio click back on, but the station changed several times. Alfred remained focused on the road as he allowed Arthur to have control of the radio. After passing over several others the radio finally landed on another pop station. After a moment of hesitation, Alfred heard a voice join in with the chorus of the song, albeit much quieter than he had been.

" _So it's gonna be forever, or it's gonna go down in flames. You can tell me when it's over, if the high was worth the pain_." Alfred glanced beside him, Arthur had his face hidden in the window, despite this though, Alfred could see the strawberry colored tips of his ears. Smiling, he joined the karaoke.

" _Got a long list of ex-lovers, they'll tell you i'm insane. But i got a blank space baby, and i'll write your name._ "


	6. Chapter 6

**I'm so sorry for how long this took to get out, I've been dealing with some personal issues this past year and my writing suffered. Everything's relatively normal again though, so I'm really trying to get my stories updated.**

 **I don't own Hetalia or it's characters.**

"I hope you like Italian." Alfred laughed, slightly nervous. Arthur looked at the restaurant as he spoke. The neon sign reading _Vargas' Variations_ against an Italian flag colored sign.

"It's not my favorite." The Brit relented, continuing as he watched Alfred's expression change. "But every now and then it's good."

"Are you sure? We can go somewhere else if you want t-" Arthur scoffed, turning to the restaurant as he spoke over Alfred. Taking slow steps across the parking lot as he spoke.

"Like where, McDonald's?" Arthur could almost _hear_ Alfred taking offense as he quickly caught up with the shorter man.

"Hey, McDonald's is a perfectly good place to eat." Alfred argued, hands crossing over his chest as he walked. Arthur rolled his eyes again as they reached the door.

"Yes, if you're fifteen, I suppose it is." Alfred said nothing, merely looking at the door. Beaming, he moved to hold the door open for his companion, earning a confused look from the man. "What are you doing?"

"I'm holding the door open." Alfred said simply, blinking his large blue eyes as he looked at Arthur, who was now silent. Several moments passed before either of them spoke, a nervous laugh accompanying Alfred's words. "Um, this is when you go inside Artie."

"Don't call me that." The man snapped out of his trance like state with a grumble, looking away as he entered the building. Alfred looked after him for a few seconds before following.

"Did I say some-"

"Alfred!" An energetic greeting reached the two, ending whatever attempt at conversation Alfred was going to have. "It's been so long since you visited! Are you alright? I heard that you were arrested-"

"Breathe, dude." Alfred laughed. Watching as the shorter man's hair fell into his face. "Arthur this is Feliciano, Feliciano, this is Arthur."

"Hello." Arthur ventured warily, watching the man begin to speak at a million miles an hour again, wondering how on earth he had known how was who with his eyes closed.

"What do you want you bastard?" Alfred laughed as Arthur looked between the twins in confusion.

"And there's the other twin." Alfred laughed, watching as Romano ignored his brother, waiting impatiently for the two to decide. "Booth or table?"

"Booth." Arthur replied after a few minutes, gears turning in his head. Alfred smiled again turning back to Romano.

"Booth it is." Romano grumbled. "Follow me." Alfred followed the somewhat rude Italian through the busy restaurant, watching as Arthur took in the warm brown walls and cushioned booths tucked away along the side. Romano sat them in a booth nearly hidden from view all together. As he set the menus down in front of the two, he began writing on the notepad. "Drinks?"

"Tea." Romano looked up as he was writing but didn't ask again. "And you?"

"Coffee please." He nodded, tucking the pen behind his ear before leaving. Alfred watched Arthur look out the window, letting his thoughts wander until the emerald eyes turned away from the outside world and back to him once more.

"So…" Alfred drawled. "what were you saying about McDonald's?" Arthur merely rolled his eyes.

"Do you come here often then?"

"Arthur there's no need for pickup lines, we're already on a date."

"It wasn't a pickup li-" Arthur's eyes widened as he fully processed what his companion had said. "We're on a date?"

"Well, sort of- I mean…it doesn't have to be a date, I just kinda assumed."

"No." Arthur said slowly. "It's fine. If we're going to the wedding together, we'd have to go on a date at some point, right?"

"Right." Both of them looked away as an awkward silence filled the air. After a few minutes Arthur started laughing, a soft chuckle that earned him a weird look from Alfred.

"I'm sorry, it's just-this." He motioned to the two of them.

"What's funny about this?" Alfred argued.

"Just, this whole situation." Arthur explained "We're both grown ups and yet, we're acting like we're fourteen about to go to homecoming."

"If we're fifteen does that mean we can go to McDonald's if we do this again?"

"Tea and Coffee, what do you want to eat?" Romano sighed, taking out his note pad again. Arthur's eyes widened slightly in embarrassment as he realized he hadn't even looked at the menu yet. Alfred beamed at the man before speaking.

"Two orders of the usual please." Romano looked between him and Arthur before writing.

"Anything else?"

"No, that'll be all." Romano nodded curtly before leaving them on their own again. Arthur stirred the tea gently, bringing the cup to his lips as he looked out the window again, his mind wandering to home and what would be on TV tonight. Alfred watched contently as Arthur did so, mixing the creamer into his coffee until it turned a caramel color.

"Why did you text me this morning?" Arthur asked quietly, his gaze never leaving the street outside. Alfred sipped on his coffee before answering.

"I wanted to." Arthur gave him a suspicious look. "Besides, if I didn't I think you would have deleted my contact."

"Why does that matter?"

"Because I like talking to you." Alfred said, not thinking twice about the words as they left his mouth. Realizing a split second after words that yes, he did like Arthur's company-no matter how argumentative the British man could be, it was fun to talk to him or watch him take in the world around him. Arthur seemed to short circuit, falling silent for so long that Alfred had begun to worry.

"We're not going to McDonalds next time." Was his only reply, so quiet that Alfred barely heard them above the usual chatter of a restaurant. Beaming he set his cup of coffee down on the table.

"So there's going to be a next time?"

"Shut up." Arthur refused to look at him as his cheeks flushed pink. Alfred didn't say anything, but began to hum along quietly to the music being played quietly through the restaurant's stereos.


	7. Chapter 7

**I do not own Hetalia or the characters**

 **Short Chapter, Bad chapter, little page of crap.**

 **Short chapter, Bad chapter, I think I'll take a nap**

Arthur had been in a daze for the past several hours, ever since he had gone on his…date. Stirring his cup of tea gently, Arthur settled into his couch, trying not to think how strange the word sounded to him now. It seemed like a whole different life, the days he spent with that frog. When was the last time Francis had remembered their date?

It was never on purpose, Arthur reminded himself, no, his ex had been quite the romantic-when he surfaced from his workshop that is. It was always just a few more minutes to get the shading done, or perhaps the clay would dry out in the time it took and then the whole thing would be ruined. His art was beautiful, but it always came first. So it was only natural to feel surprised to see Alfred there, who wouldn't be? Arthur could remember the idiotic happiness he expressed when Arthur had mentioned meeting again.

The buzz of his phone on the table next to him startled Arthur from his mind's wanderings, the surprise causing tea to slip from the cup onto his suit. "Bloody-" he growled under his breath, setting the cup on the table and grabbing a napkin. Looking at the screen, Arthur wiped the worst of the spill from his lap.

 **Hey Iggy, are you awake?**

 _I told you not to call me that Alfred._

 **What's your favorite color?**

Arthur looked at the screen, his brow furrowing from confusion. Alfred had messaged him at, he glanced at the clock quickly, 10:32 pm, in order to ask what his favorite color was?

 _What?_

 **WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE COLOR ?**

 _I can read just fine you imbecile, I wanted to know why you were asking._

 **It's a secret.**

 _You sound like a child._

 **I'm twenty-two!**

 _You're hardly even old enough to drink._

 **Yeah, well, how old are you?**

 _Twenty-five._

 **You're barely older than I am!**

 _You call three years barely?_

 **Artie, focus, favorite color.**

 _You misspelled colour._

 **We're in America, that's how things are spelled here. Now WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE COLOR.**

 _There's no need for shouting Alfred._

Arthur was suppressing a chuckle as the conversation continued, watching his companion's responses become more and more agitated. He reveled in his backhanded revenge for his spilt tea.

 **PICK A COLOR YOU SHORT, LITTLE BRITISH MAN**

 _It wasn't necessary to use short and little in the same sentence._

 **You know what, I'm just going to take a guess.**

 _Goodnight then Alfred._

 **Night Arthur**


	8. Chapter 8

"Arthur?" The blonde looked up from his computer to his confused collogue. "Heracles says there's a delivery for you downstairs."

"Ah, I'll be down in a second Kiku." His friend nodded before disappearing back towards his own office. The man stretched above his arms above his head before rolling his chair back and standing. It wasn't unusual for him to receive deliveries and he usually just had them brought up but every now and again it was refreshing to stretch his legs.

As Arthur walked he thought about messaging Alfred to make sure that the energetic man was awake. It was already half past noon but he couldn't tell if sleeping in this late was normal or not for the man and didn't want him to get in trouble…wherever it was that he went during the day.

Which led Arthur's thoughts down the path that made him realize, quite suddenly actually, that he didn't know very much at all about Alfred. He didn't know where he worked or who his best friends were. He didn't know the man's favorite food or color or song. Alfred was basically still a stranger to him. And something about that realization hurt.

"Arthur?" Came a sleep heavy voice from inside the room and the British man stopped, turning back with an apologetic smile towards Heracles.

"Sorry, got a bit lost in my thoughts." The man nodded, long brown hair falling into his eyes. "Kiku told me there was a delivery for me?"

"Ah, this way." Arthur followed as his collegue lead him out of the mail room and down the steps into the main lobby of the building. His eyes widened as he took in the room.

"What happened?" He looked out across the vases and vases and vases of green roses.

"They're for you." Arthur turned to the man, who shrugged when he saw the shocked expression. After a minute Arthur cleared his throat and turned back to the crowd of flowers in the room.

"Who wou-" He cut himself off with the realization that they were the same shade of green of the suit that he wore on his date with Alfred. Despite the pain in the neck that was going to be getting the flowers home, Arthur couldn't help but smile at the gesture. He had never seen so many flowers in the same spot before, there must be at least a hundred of them. What was Alfred thinking?

And yet, as they always did, his thoughts turned to Francis. The way that his ex lover would send out random cards after finishing a project or how Arthur would come home and there would be dinner cooking and music playing for a surprise date night. How, towards the end of the relationship those things became scarce and then stopped all together.

"Arthur?" He startled out of his thoughts as the man behind him yawned. "Can you sign that you got them?"

"Oh, yeah. Sure thing." He quickly signed the paper and turned back to the flowers as he heard the sound of Heracles heading back upstairs.

Finally pulling out his phone the man snapped a picture of the bouquets and sent it to Alfred.

 _Are these from you?_

That depends

Do you like them?

Arthur looked out at the flowers again before messaging back. Taking in the sea of different colored green flowers, noticing for the first time the white daisies sticking up sections of the bouquet and lime green accenting ribbon tied along the stems.

 _Yes, I like them very much._

I'm glad. :)

Arthur began the process of moving them out to his car, filling the backseat and the trunk and the passanger seat and the floorboards until he was certain that he would never be able to pick up all the petals before he went back to his office.

Once there he set up the last, smallest bouquet on the corner of his desk before turning on his computer again, his thoughts interrupted by thoughts of an energetic boy and the dozens of bouquets he had in his car. But only every so often would Arthur realize that he was supposed to be working, not day dreaming.

And it wasn't until after he clocked out for the day and had driven home that he got the second message.

So, did I get the color right?

 _Very. Good night Alfred._

ALL RIGHTS TO THEIR RESPECTIVE OWNERS I DO NOT OWN HETALIA OR ITS CHARACTERS


End file.
